Consequences
by Elwa
Summary: The Doctor was just a little bit more confused when he regenerated. He didn't run away from Jack. He mourned him. And then later, much later, something new happens to him, something both wonderful and horrible. And that's when everything changes
1. Chapter 1

Title: Consequences

Author: Elwa

Summary: _In another universe, the Doctor left Jack behind. And when Jack finally caught up to him again, he ran. The TARDIS took them all the way to the end of the universe to escape. But what if it happened just a little differently? Regeneration sickness and the Doctor forgets. Not Jack, never Jack, but he forgets exactly what happens during that confusing time around when he died. To him, Jack is dead. He didn't run away, he mourned. And then later, much, much later, something new happens to him, something both horrible and wonderful. And that changes everything._

Pairings: Jack/10, 10/OC

Genre: AU, romance, drama, angst, slash

Rating: R

Warnings: Adult situations, slash, non-con

Spoilers: For Torchwood: S01E02, through season one. For Dr Who, anything up through season four, mostly 3, big ones for S03E01.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dr Who or Torchwood, nor am I affiliated with them. I am making no money from this.

**Chapter 1**

Martha Jones watched the Doctor with a bemused expression as he jumped about the console. In another universe, it might even have been the lovelorn expression of a schoolgirl crush. The Doctor was cute enough, and what other bloke could offer all the universe through space and time? But there was also something broken about him, something closed and cold. And it wasn't just the Rose issue, or the painful way he spoke of his lost home. He had changed, somehow, between their first meeting in the hospital and offering her that 'one' trip. He had seemed, somehow, more alien. And of course she knew she was alien, had known from practically the very beginning when she had to revive both his hearts, but he hadn't really felt alien all the same.

Then he came back, and said just one trip. And he was changed.

They weren't big, obvious changes. He still ran around with that grin, talking a mile a minute about things way over Martha's head. But there was a look in his eye. Martha had seen that look before, just once, on a little girl. The girl had been on vacation and something happened and she had lost her parents. There was that look in her eyes, of being lost and alone and so very, very far from home. The expression was deeper on the Doctor. Whenever it got too deep in his eyes, he would start jumping around with nervous energy and throw them into their next adventure. And from what little she had managed to gleam from his past, he had every right to have that look. But she swore it hadn't been there, not so blatant at least; she might have believed him an alien faster if it had.

And as much as the Doctor seemed to love adventures, to crave the distraction at the very least, he hated the crowds. He was alright meeting people one on one; he had been thrilled to meet Shakespeare, but looked on the verge of a panic attack when confronted with a street full of strangers. The trip to New New York had made him jumpy when they first arrived; all those people hiding behind doors and under windows. He had looked calmer though, when she caught up to him again at the end of that adventure.

He acted equally conflicted about having her around. He wanted company, but at the same time he didn't. He'd flinch, sometimes, when she got too close. He told her, in the beginning, that it was just one trip. He had tried going with people and it didn't work. They left…or they died. Two names seemed to be held sacred, the mere mention of which would pull that alien lonely god look onto his face. She still tried to get him to talk sometimes, the doctor in her convinced it was healthier. One trip turned into two, and then into three. He had seemed a little better after the second, even if he had gone off in the TARDIS to be alone for a long while. He was worse after the third. It would be a long time before she got the vision of him screaming for them to kill him out of her mind.

He said he'd take her home, then. Twelve hours after she had left with him. For once, the TARDIS got the time dead on. It just completely missed the right planet. It was times like this that Martha was certain the TARDIS was not only sentient, but just as concerned about the Doctor as she was.

Eventually, after cursing a lot in a language Martha didn't understand (but could still tell it was cursing) he did something to her phone so she could at least call her mom and let her know she might be away for a while. And now, days or weeks or months later (it's rather hard to tell when you live in a time machine) he announced that out of all of space and time they would be landing in Cardiff.

"Just for a pit stop," he explained, something about a rift. It was a short stop, anyway. He wasn't planning on even going out, though he did think to ask Martha if she wanted to. She didn't. So they started to leave. And then something happened.

One second the TARDIS had been making that wheezing noise it got when it traveled, and the next the entire structure shuddered and stopped, knocking Martha to the floor and the Doctor onto the seat near the console.

"Doctor?" Martha cried, "What was that?"

"I don't know," he answered, already bouncing around the instruments, "Now that can't be right…" Which is around the time the door to the TARDIS door opened. The doctor didn't notice right away, being completely absorbed in the readings and Martha just stared. A man walked in, glanced at her, and then turned his full attention onto the Doctor, his eyes swallowing him whole as the Doctor continued to run around, babbling on about readings Martha didn't begin to understand.

"Er…Doctor?" she said. He still didn't look up. The stranger walked slowly further into the TARDIS. He had a key, she noted, on a long string. He was slowly putting it around his neck as he walked. When he took another step towards the Doctor, Martha stepped between them defensively. "Who are you?"

"Martha, what are you…" The Doctor said, finally looking up. Martha was facing the wrong way to see his face, but she heard the small, fragile sound that followed. "Jack?"

Time froze. Then Martha had to move; she had to see if the Doctor was alright, had to know if this intruder was good or bad. Experience told her that the unexpected usually meant trouble, but, on the other hand, the man had a key. She moved away from the stranger, watching to make sure he wasn't going to suddenly lunge, before turning to the Doctor. The Doctor had a look in his eyes she had never seen before. Broken and alone, yes, but something else, akin to that look when she got him to talk about his past. Longing. Now there was also fear, and utter confusion.

"Doctor," the man replied, still not moving. Something of the Doctor's look was reflected in his eyes.

"No!" the Doctor suddenly exclaimed, his whole body trembling, "No, you're dead! I heard you die!" The stranger had tensed at the first 'no!' but his expression didn't waver. Slowly, he started moving again, towards them. The Doctor didn't back up but he looked ready to. Martha didn't know what she should do, if there was danger here or not.

"Who are you?" she repeated again, and he finally tore his eyes from the Doctor to look at her. He looked her up and down, and then grinned.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he said, "And who are you?"

"Martha Jones," she answered automatically, and then suddenly her eyes widened in recognition, "You're Jack?" She turned her head to look once more at the Doctor, "That Jack?"

The Doctor shook his head. "It can't be. He's…" Slowly, an odd look coming over his face, the Doctor took a step towards Jack. Jack stood very still, waiting, as though the Doctor were a feral cat and might run if Jack moved.

"Doctor?" Martha said again, feeling very out of sorts. Was Jack a threat or wasn't he? Was this Jack? Maybe it was an old Jack, from before he died…but then how did he know the Doctor? The odd look of confusion still on his face, the Doctor slowly raised his hand towards Jack's temple. Jack didn't move, letting him do as he liked. The Doctor stood very still for a moment, fingers pressed to Jack's head, before quickly jerking his hand back as though burnt, eyes wide. Still Jack waited, waited for the Doctor to say something, anything. Expressions flashed across the Doctor's face too swiftly to make sense of. Finally he stepped back, squeezing his eyes tightly for a long moment before opening them again.

"Rose," he whispered, looking towards the ground, before jerking his eyes onto Jack again. And then, without any warning, he practically fell forward, grabbing Jack fiercely, mumbling something into the shoulder of his coat. Jack looked just as startled as Martha felt, but he was quick to hold the Doctor back. Martha could just make out words here or there, 'wrong, sorry, wrong, Rose'. Jack was saying something back, into the Doctor's hair. Slowly, gently, Jack led them over to the seat. Martha hung back, feeling awkward and out of place in this scene. The Doctor was still trembling and belatedly Martha realized he was actually crying. Finally, deciding this stranger wouldn't hurt the Doctor and unwilling to intrude, she left to make some tea.

By the time she came back again, the scene had changed. For one thing, the Doctor was pacing at one end of the room and Jack was standing casually and relaxed at the other. Approaching Jack cautiously with the tray, she was able to see that most of his relaxed attitude was an act. He took the tea and flashed her a smile that was completely at odds with the tense atmosphere. If she had met him on the street, she might very well have taken him up on the promises that smile held. As it was, she turned away again to watch the Doctor's nervous pacing. He wasn't crying now but he was anything but composed. He was also talking to himself, in that one language the TARDIS never translated. Sensing she wasn't going to get anything out of him for a while, she reluctantly turned back towards Jack, setting the remaining teas on the floor.

"Alright," she said, "Just what exactly is going on." For a long moment, it didn't look like she'd be getting answers out of him either. But then he nodded his head slightly and motioned for her to sit with him.

"You've heard of me," he said, not so much a question as a statement but she nodded anyway, "Have you heard of Rose?"

"You three traveled together," Martha answered, "He mentions you sometimes. Sometimes I try to get him to talk…I think it's good for him to talk. But it's always in bits and pieces, the stories. He said once you died to save them…and then he died to save Rose. And I know Rose is on a parallel world or something…"

"That's more than I thought he'd share," Jack said, his eyes still on the Doctor before he tore them away to her again, "He always avoided the past. Of course, he was a different person then…" There was a look in Jack's eyes then, akin to the look the Doctor got. But Jack shook himself and the look was gone…or at least deeply hidden. "I died. And then I was alive again. I don't know why. I was alive and everyone around me was dead. I ran, I ran to the Doctor but I was too late. I arrived just as the TARDIS left…"

Martha gasped. His story resonated with a deep fear she had learned in her travels; the fear of being stranded in the wrong place and time. It wasn't something she could let herself dwell on but it always there…the risk. If the Doctor was hurt or if he died…if the TARDIS broke down…if the TARDIS was lost…if, if, if…

"I had a vortex manipulator," Jack continued, holding up his wrist in a vague motion to show her, "Good enough for one jump. I knew he'd come back here, eventually. We always used to stop by London, so Rose could see her mom. I jumped. I missed. By about a century, I missed."

"But you're here now," Martha answered, having gathered from his words that the wrist thing was a sort of mini TARDIS device, "Unless…did the Doctor get the time wrong again?" Jack laughed, shaking his head slightly. He watched the Doctor pacing a moment longer before speaking again. "I can't die." Martha stared at him.

"What do you mean, you can't die?" she demanded.

"I mean…I die, and then I'm alive again. Apparently, it shouldn't have happened. I'm wrong." Martha still stared, unsure what to say to that. The Doctor suddenly stopped talking, stopped pacing, just stopped. He didn't look at them. He just, slowly, slid down a wall until he was sitting on the floor. "I think he's almost done freaking out," Jack remarked.

"What do you mean, wrong?" Martha asked. Surely the Doctor didn't call him that. Not to his face.

"Apparently it's a timelord thing. I'm not supposed to be here. He can feel that." Then he turned his head to look at her again, his gaze penetrating. "You're Martha. The Martha from the hospital on the moon." Her eyes widened slightly.

"How do you know that?" she demanded, "Did he mention it, before…" Before his meltdown.

"No," Jack answered. She began to feel uncomfortable under his gaze. "From a friend of yours, Katia Jameson." Martha couldn't stop the scowl from crossing her face at the mention of that name.

"Katia?" she asked, "What were you talking to her for?"

"I take it not a close friend?" Jack asked with a raised eyebrow at her expression.

"No," Martha answered quickly, "She just worked in the same hospital where I was. She always cared more about hooking up with the cute doctors than her job. Or maybe the cute doctors' money." Jack nodded his head briefly but didn't elaborate on his meeting her. Belatedly, Martha remembered her tea and reached for it as something to do. It was room temperature by that point but not quite cold.

They sat in silence. And then, at last, the Doctor moved. He stood up and slowly approached them. Martha couldn't read the look on his face. Jack tensed and slowly stood himself and Martha followed suit. She could practically see the tension between them and wondered if she shouldn't leave again. Perhaps make some more tea.

"I can't undo it," the Doctor said. Jack slumped slightly, looking down. "You're part of it now, all through space and time. It's a wonder I didn't feel you before. I think I did…I just didn't realize…" He ran his hand over his hair, looking more broken than ever.

"Would you?" Jack asked, "If you could." The Doctor look down at his toes, anywhere but at Jack.

"I don't know," he answered at last. "Probably. Yes." Jack nodded his head, as though that was what he expected to hear. "If I did, I'd have to undo all of it. From the beginning," the Doctor continued to explain, "I can't just do it here and now. And it would tear time apart if I tried."

"Right," Jack said, and then, "Will I ever die?"

"I don't know," the Doctor answered. He paused for a bit. "Do you want to?" He was watching Jack without watching him now.

"I did. Now…I don't know. I want to know I can die." The Doctor didn't answer that, still avoiding Jack's gaze. The moment deepened, then broke as the Doctor managed to spin out of it in the same way he avoided most of Martha's more serious conversations. An unexpected grin suddenly spread across his face. "Well, but look at you! Jack, my Jack! My not dead Jack! Still alive and burning so bright." He reached out to grasp Jack's shoulders, looking for all the world like an excited puppy greeting a long missed friend. Jack and Martha couldn't help but smile in response. Then he moved away again, looking over the TARDIS's console, sonic screwdriver suddenly in hand. "And messed up my TARDIS something awful, jumping on her like that. You know she yanked herself into full reverse when you did that? She must like you; most people would find themselves dragged through the vortex. So, what have you been up to since I saw you last? Surely you haven't been hanging out on the rift this whole time?"

"You've gotten hyper this time around," Jack said, smiling lightly in response to the Doctor's energy. His eyes swept over him, taking in the changes, accepting them. "And no, as a matter of fact, I have not been just hanging out on the rift these past hundred years."

The Doctor paused in his movements before continuing with his tinkering. "One hundred years? Really?" he asked lightly.

"Lately I've been helping Cardiff with alien threats," Jack continued, and though his tone remained light he looked suddenly a bit nervous. Like a kid caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Really?" the Doctor said, not seeming to notice. Jack approached him slowly, absently patting the panel with an affectionate motion. He took a deep breath, as though steeling himself for something,

"With Torchwood."

The Doctor's hand jerked and something sparked. Martha took in a deep breath. Torchwood was right up there with Rose and Daleks as Things To Never Mention. Slowly the Doctor raised his head. To her surprise, the expression that gradually spread across his face was one of amusement.

"Torchwood, Jack?" he asked, "Are you here to turn me in then?"

Jack grinned, looking relieved as he answered, "What do you think?"

The Doctor grinned back, then grimaced. "And I suppose they let you run around with your big honking space guns? Saving the world from the alien threats?"

"Earth guns, actually," Jack answered, "Don't want to get _too_ anachronistic." Then the smile slowly fell from his face. "Doctor…there's something I need to tell you." The Doctor twitched again. Slowly, he lowered his sonic screwdriver and waited.

"You were at the hospital, on the moon," Jack said slowly. Martha looked back and forth between them, having no idea where this was going. She knew all about that adventure; it was her first meeting with the Doctor. But why was that important to Jack? Jack looked even more nervous than when he had to admit to working for Torchwood. Jack hesitated, then finally said, "She got pregnant. The baby has two hearts."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_Six months earlier_

It was the two hearts that alerted Jack. And the news didn't even come from some super secret channel, like hacking into UNIT or the Torchwood 1 database. A news network he had only turned on on a whim to show the new girl had picked it up under the heading 'My baby's Daddy is an alien?' with the more scientifically approved subheading, 'a baby born with a duo heart defect has doctors speculating.'

"Crash site is one hundred meters ahead."

He shook his head, bringing his thoughts back on task, but still with one ear tuned to the news report. The voice of a woman had come on, babbling abrasively about some one night tryst with a mysterious man she had met, apparently, on the moon. The doctor interviewed after sounded flustered and harassed, but extremely skeptical that an alien father had resulted in the baby's condition. The car screeched to a stop. Jack tried to remind himself he had other things to worry about, like the mystery object that had crashed nearby.

Others had gotten there first; the place was crawling with people. Jack listened idly to Owen making a snide comment about 'amateurs', and felt like cursing himself. Not because of the potential problems but because he wanted nothing more than to leave this in the hands of his team and bolt after the news story. Though that would have hardly been fair to the newbie, it would be especially unprofessional now in light of the growing situation. After, he decided, barking out for the usual formation.

He tried to stay casual, aloof but alert; he had wanted to watch Gwen in particular and see how she was handling things. But he was distracted; it was just a hunk of rock and though he knew better than to think it harmless, he wasn't convinced he was really needed here. He had gotten them through to get access, even backtracking when the new girl got separated, but now he was just taking readings, something any one of them could do. The light banter of his team, new and old, would have been amusing if he wasn't so distracted. Suddenly, he came to an abrupt decision.

"Something has come up," he barked out, interrupting Gwen mid-sentence, "Tosh, finish up here!" He ignored her startled exclamation and turned to towards Gwen who was staring at him, clutching some tool in her hand. "Gwen, help Tosh. Owen, you're with me. Tosh, if you need help…call Ianto. He can call me in an emergency." And he turned on his heels and started away. His name came in surround sound behind him, the tone alternatively annoyed and tinged with hysteria.

"Owen with me!" he called again, not turning around, and with a curse the other man finally followed.

"Why me?" he demanded, half a step behind Jack, "Why'd you leave Tosh in charge back there with the new girl?"

"You're a doctor, aren't you?" Jack demanded, "They can handle this." He made Owen drive again, ignoring his questions and then snide, dismissing comments when the doctor finally caught on to what news report Jack was following.

Ianto called in a second update on the alien rock situation as they were approaching London. The first had been to confirm that they had the situation under control. The second told him maybe he really should have stayed to help them handle it, but it was too late to worry about now.

"We caught it in a containment shield," Ianto told him, while Gwen was babbling in the background, '_I'm sorry, Jack, I didn't mean to_.' "It turned to dust after a few minutes. We think it's dead, whatever it was." Jack took the time to make sure they were alright and that the threat really was contained before cutting off communications again.

There were no more interruptions before they reached the hospital, aside from Owen's acerbic questions of why they were doing this. Jack, for the most part, ignored him. Despite his comments, Owen was completely professional when they strode inside, projecting the air of people who has an important job to go about and who really shouldn't be stopped by local staff. It was all about confidence. If they looked like they were supposed to be there, most people wouldn't try to stop them.

Jack got the room number with a flirtatious smile and a snap of his ID. The room they wanted was thankfully private and, even more thankfully, empty of visitors. Jack had been having visions the entire drive of any number of people catching the news and recognizing the significance, quite a number of whom were based in or around London and who could have gotten there in next to no time.

The mother was sitting up in her bed, perfectly healthy looking and watching the television. She was alone in her room though there was another bed, empty for the moment. She looked over at them with interest. Jack let his eyes sweep over her. She was fair skinned, looking a bit pale in the hospital bed but surprisingly fresh considering she had just given birth. Her hair was clean and styled into loose curls and make-up had obviously been applied to her face. She was pretty in a too skinny, high school prom queen sort of way. From the information Jack had pulled on her she was actually a twenty-five year old nurse. She looked at the two intruders with an interested gleam.

"Katia Jameson? I'm Captain Jack Harkness and this is Dr Owen Harper. I hear you had a dalliance with an alien on the moon?"

She looked at them through heavy eyelashes, smiling brightly in a way that had Owen squirming slightly. Jack held onto his friendly, open persona but inwardly remained cold. Something was wrong here. She was a bit too…predatory…for a new mom.

"Are you here about the baby? That was fast," she said, "Are you with some secret organization or something?" She looked thrilled so Jack leaned in and said, "Torchwood," in a low, conspiratory voice. He winked. Then he waited patiently for her to get to the story.

"You heard about the situation around nine months back?" she finally asked, and then giggled lightly, "I suppose almost exactly nine months back! Well, that's where we met. I mean, those totally gross alien things were marching around and scanning people, and then I see this man running by with Martha, she was a med student, you know, but she left after; I think she couldn't handle the whole alien thing, but anyway, I saw this gorgeous man, and the rhino things were chasing him because, get this, he wasn't human! He looked human, of course, except for being a fashion nightmare, I mean, pinstripe suits? Well, it was all getting a bit hard to breathe then, you know, recycled air because we were on the moon. But then we came back. And after, I see him walking around with Martha again! Of course, I remembered he was an alien, and so I followed after and some doctor wanted to talk to Martha about things and the alien was just leaning against the wall there, watching her. He looked a bit unsteady, you know, a bit pale, and I just wanted to mother him to death! So I talked to him."

"And then what happened? Did he invite you out?" Jack prompted, still smiling despite the sick weight of unease in his stomach. Something here was very wrong. Because that was the Doctor; it had to be. He had seen pictures of the new him, and this had to be him. But this woman, this girl, who was supposed to be twenty five but sounded fifteen, she was so very, very, very not his type. And okay, maybe the doctor had changed, changed completely into someone who would put up with this girl's inane prattle and predatory crush, but he just couldn't see it. She was giggling again.

"I took him to a nearby room," she said, "And we talked a bit. He tried to say he was just a doctor, you know, I mean we were in a hospital, but I knew the truth. So we talked, and then, you know, one thing led to another…"

"Right," Jack managed to choke out, "And the kid?" He looked around the room as though he expected the baby to jump out of the wall.

"They've been monitoring it after they noticed it was different," she explained, "It has two hearts, you see. They thought it was twins before it was born. I think there were other things that were wrong; they were afraid at first that it couldn't live because it was so abnormal but it's doing alright."

"Right," Jack said, backing up towards the door. Her next words stopped him cold.

"I want a hundred thousand for it."

"A hundred thousand what?" Owen asked, his bemused but lustful expression finally morphing into pure surprise.

"Pounds. That's what you're here for, right? You want the alien baby? Well, I'm the mom, and I want compensation."

"You want to sell us your kid?" Jack asked, staring. Her eyes were cold and calculating as she smiled back at him.

"You want the alien, you pay me," she insisted, "Or I won't let it go."

Slowly, Jack sank into a chair. Finally, he nodded. "Alright. One hundred grand. So…a newborn baby! This calls for a celebration, don't you think? Owen! How about some Champaign or something."

"Right, I'm on it," he answered, darting out of the room. Jack continued to stare at Katia Jameson with something hard in his eyes, despite the easy smile. She smiled back prettily. It was getting to be well beyond awkward when Owen returned.

"Miss Jameson, I have some papers for you to sign," he announced, "And I'm afraid this was all I could find to drink." A bottle of cheap wine was brandished along with three paper cups. The girl looked slightly suspicious of how quickly they were complying. She looked at the papers while Owen popped open the wine.

"This…there are adoption papers here. Aren't there stronger procedures for that?"

"Just sign, if you please," Jack answered, brandishing a very impressive check, while giving Owen a raised eyebrow.

"I thought it might make it easier on Tosh to get the paperwork," he answered with a shrug, "And they were all filed together in the drawer. That is what you were planning?"

Katia still looked a bit dubious about signing, and she seemed distrustful of the check, like she expected it to be a fake. But the tangible weight of it was hard for her to resist, and between that and Jack's charm, she finally signed the papers, reminding them of the fuss she'd throw if they tried to double cross her. Owen presented the wine.

Jack made the mistake of looking over the paperwork as he took a sip, and wound up spewing, barely managing to turn away from the papers. Katia, luckily, didn't follow his example and gulped hers down. She was asleep within minutes, and the check was taken back and torn up. By tomorrow morning she would only remember she had had an unwanted pregnancy. She might, if shown her own interview, manage to recall some details, but Torchwood probably wouldn't be a part of them. She would be monitored. Otherwise, Mom was now out of the picture.

Jack Harkness led the way out of the room, still holding tight to the papers Owen had managed to pull up, leaving it to Owen to clean up any other evidence of their presence. The baby's name was still blank; apparently Mom hadn't gotten around to naming her kid. But the new last name was filled in quite clearly, taken from the adoptive father. Harkness. Jack didn't know whether to kill Owen or embrace him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Present day_

The sonic screwdriver fell from his hands. He took half a step back, stumbled over nothing, and wound up on the floor. All the while, Jack's words reverberated in his head. _Pregnant_. _Two_ _hearts_. Impossible. And even as that mantra filled his head, yet another thought was running around, enough to make his hearts stutter in his chest. _He knows_.

How Jack knew, the Doctor had no idea, but he did. He knew, or had guessed, everything.

Suddenly someone was beside him and he flinched away, before the solid vibing ache through his time sense told him it was only Jack. Jack who was impossible himself, who should be dead and was all wrong. And if other time lords had been around he would probably have been 'fixed' long long ago. But they weren't and Jack was here. Martha too, at his other side, hovering. And now he was back to trembling again. He sensed more than saw Jack pulling away after the flinch, and almost of its own accord his hand darted out to stop him.

"Doctor? What is it? What does he mean?" Martha was babbling in his ear, a look of fear on her face, as though she had already half guessed. And she would guess, too. She was a doctor, after all, or almost one. And he only chose the best for companions. Martha moved to touch his arm, probably meaning to soothe him, but he jerked away and wound up falling into Jack. Time jumped and suddenly he realized he was shouting at her, and in Gallifreyan at that. He stopped abruptly, shutting his mouth with a clack as his teeth banged against each other. He was lucky his tongue didn't get in the way.

"There, Doc, you okay now, back with us?" He was still leaning against Jack and he felt strange. Like he had lost time somewhere along the way, and that was very very wrong, because timelords don't lose time. He looked up to see Martha staring at him, fear in her eyes. His own eyes widened when he saw her nose was bleeding. Did he do that?

She must have noticed his change of expression because she drew towards him again, more cautiously this time. "Doctor?" she said, sounding a bit stopped up. One hand was wiping at her nose but most of her attention was on him, "Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine," he answered, wanting to run but unsure if his legs would hold him up right at that moment. He had to be squashing Jack a bit at this point, but the man behind him didn't complain. Distractedly, the Doctor ran his hands through his hair again, trying to get his brain to work once more. His eyes moved involuntarily towards the blood on Martha's face. "Sorry. Sorry. Did I…? Sorry. I'm fine; why don't you…" He made general motions towards the blood.

"Don't worry about it," Martha answered quickly, concern still coloring her words, but she did begin to back up. "I'll just go…" she waved her hands towards the door.

"Right," the Doctor answered, despite not knowing exactly what she had in mind to do; clean up her face, make more tea…she could want to make a gourmet meal for all he could tell in that moment. Or she could just be trying to run away from the insane timelord; he wouldn't blame her if she did. Martha escaped out the door, only pausing to collect the old tea.

The Doctor's current pillow shifted beneath him. "You okay, Doc?"

"Don't call me Doc, Jack," the Doctor answered wearily, and then, "Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack." A bit as though he were trying out the name in his mouth.

"Doctor?"

"Just…been a while since I could say that. Jack."

Jack shifted beneath him again, and reluctantly the Doctor began to slide off. The reluctance wasn't so much that Jack was that comfortable as that, so long as the man was behind him, the Doctor could pretend he hadn't just witnessed the last few minutes. And once he faced him, he'd have to face everything that had caused his little freak-out. And, well, Jack was unexpectedly comfortable. Something about his solidness in time, a bit like an anchor. Or maybe it was his heat.

Jack helped the Doctor to rise wobbly to his feet, one hand clutched in his and the other resting solidly on his back. The Doctor still refused to look at the man, partly in avoidance of everything and partly because he was afraid of what he would see in his eyes. It still felt amazing that the man was here at all; it felt like running into a ghost. The Doctor's mind literally didn't know what to do with that, how to address it. Should he run from the 'wrongness' or embrace the chance at a new friendship? Should he face his responsibility in Jack's death and then abandonment, did Jack himself want or need something from him? Did Jack hate him? He didn't seem like he did, but then, hate could be a complicated thing when it came to someone you loved. The Doctor was afraid to look him in the eyes and know for sure. So, since he couldn't run at the moment, he did the next best thing, and turned away.

"Doctor," Jack said, his tone telling him he wasn't going to let him hide. Back still turned, the Doctor ran his ran his fingers over his hair once again. "Doctor…" The Doctor stood waiting, tense, and he heard Jack sigh behind him. "It's good to see you again."

"You too, Jack." But he still didn't turn around. He looked on the floor instead, searching for his missing screwdriver. It turned out to have rolled under the chair.

After a few minutes of watching the Doctor tinkering over the console, Jack stepped up to join him. If it weren't for the tenseness of their shoulders and the almost complete lack of talking, it could have been like a step back in time, to before Jack left and the Doctor changed. But Jack had left, or was left anyway, and the Doctor had changed, and with his new look the silence was even more telling.

"So what have you been up to?" the Doctor asked suddenly, startling Jack into jerking his hand at exactly the wrong time, making the console spark.

"Sorry," Jack murmured reflexively, stroking the ship gently, before turning to look at the Doctor. The Doctor still didn't look at him, though he could see him in the corner of his eye.

"Waiting for you, mostly," Jack answered, his tone morose, and the Doctor ducked his head slightly.

"Well, I mean, Torchwood!" the Doctor babbled, "Been keeping yourself busy, haven't you?"

"It's the twenty first century," Jack answered, his voice cautious, as though he still wasn't sure where the Doctor stood on his job, "You know what happens. I haven't been…they don't know where I'm from. I tell my team what they need to know, and that's all."

"Yes, well," the Doctor answered, sounding a bit distracted as he tinkered, "Would be hypocritical of me to call you on that, seeing as I used to work for UNIT."

"Ha!"

"Sorry?" the Doctor looked up, finally startled into staring directly at Jack. The other man's triumphant expression slowly morphed into something softer as the Doctor stared into his eyes.

"Just…I knew it was you…" Jack answered, "Only they never let me see you; apparently they'd had trouble with Torchwood before. I wasn't even really sure…"

"Just as well you didn't," the Doctor answered, "Could have created a paradox. That me hadn't met you yet."

Jack shook his head. "This changing bodies thing is seriously weird. Could you always do that? Were you…I mean, the Daleks…" His tone sounded a bit fragile now, a bit brittle.

"Would have killed me," the Doctor answered swiftly, and then finally broke eye contact as he ducked under the console to check on something, "Dalek guns are fatal to timelords; no regenerating from that."

"Oh," Jack answered, a hint of relief in his voice, and then, "So what else can kill you?"

"Why?" The Doctor ducked his head back up, grinning, "Planning to carry out Torchwood's mission after all?"

Jack didn't even bother to answer that. He continued to watch the Doctor until the grin slid slowly off his face and he ducked down again. Something sparked.

"Let's see…" he said into the console, after a long enough time that it seemed he wasn't going to answer at all, "Aspirin would do it. A few other poisons or viruses maybe…I had a bit of a scare once with spectrox toxaemia, but it turned out alright in the end. Well, I say alright, I mean, I didn't die but I did try to kill Peri after. Some radiations. Anything that destroys the body completely. Well…not _anything_, anything, well…okay, probably."

"Is that why there's no aspirin on the TARDIS?" a voice called unexpectedly from the other side of the room, "You told me it disagreed with you, not that it'd kill you!"

The Doctor glanced briefly towards Martha, noting the absence of blood though her voice was still a bit nasally, and then looked back at his work. "Disagree…kill, same thing, isn't it?"

"No it's not the same thing!" Martha cried, sounding more exasperated than annoyed. The Doctor suspected this was one of those things she wasn't going to let go; the doctor in her always wanted to know all the little things about what made him tick. But before she could start on a rampage, demanding a more satisfactory explanation, there was a knock at the door. At the outer, supposedly unnoticeable due to the perception filter, door. Everyone turned to stare at it.

"That will probably be Ianto," Jack said, a hint of guilt in his voice, "I kinda left in a hurry when my TARDIS detector…I mean…well, he probably saw me running on the camera."

At the second knock, the Doctor stalked reluctantly towards the door, throwing it open. A young man stood in the doorway. In his arms was an odd, technological looking contraption that was built around what looked like an ordinary human hand. The Doctor stared at the hand.

"Jack, you didn't!" Before Jack could respond, or the newcomer make a statement himself, the presence of another life form made itself known by squalling loudly from the carrier on the newcomer's back.

The Doctor didn't say anything; he just stared with wide eyes. Jack and Martha joined him, Jack coming around to stand next to his teammate. Numerous expressions radiated fleetingly from Jack's eyes; anger, annoyance, fear, love, acceptance, resignation. None of them showed in his face, which appeared relaxed, bordering on jovial as he extended normal pleasantries.

"Doctor, meet Ianto Jones." Ianto Jones's expression was harder for the Doctor to decipher, most likely because he didn't know him like he had known Jack. It didn't help that the Doctor's attention wasn't on him so much as that which surrounded him; a hand in a jar and…something…still making unhappy noises from the carrier on his back. The Doctor wasn't sure he wanted to know, to acknowledge its existence. Jack was relentless, however, continuing his introductions.

"And meet Jason Harkness. Your son."


End file.
